


Find Your Own Way Back Home

by northerndownpourr



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-02 00:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4039912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northerndownpourr/pseuds/northerndownpourr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan and Brendon realize that they feel about each other in a way they never thought about before. Realizing it at an airport, they travel around- trying to avoid coming down from that high of the first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Airports and Kisses

Ryan looked at me with a look in his eyes, a look of wonder, of awe, of slight confusion at what was about to happen. I leaned in towards his full lips, and placed mine on his, moving them between mine, and nibbling on the bottom of his lips and tracing his collarbone. 

“You know we are in an airport right, a public airport?” Ryan asked as he pulled away. 

“I don’t care, I want you. I need you. I love you.” I said to him and leaned into his chest. His big eyes stared directly into me awakening in me something un yet stirred before, something beautiful in my soul. I needed him.


	2. Let's Get Lost

“If this is heaven  
Or if it's just a warning  
Say you will stay with me  
Even if it's just til' morning”- Dashboard Confessional// Until Morning

 

“I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember, since the band started. But our flight is boarding.” His hair hung in his face and his eyes were the size of the moon. I should use that line in a song. We lifted our suitcases and guitars into our hands, and walked to fly back out to LA. But I didn’t want to stay in LA, I wanted to fly around with him and stay in airport hotels and fly around until we run out of money and fly back to New York and meet everyone else there, broke and in love. But for now we will just board the red eye back to LA. 

“Ryan, what would you say if you if we just flew around the airport or airports and stayed the attached or hotels or the floor and just run away from everything and everyone and just be ourselves, just us. Whattya say? Please say yes.” By this point we were sitting in our seats on the plane and he leaned in and kissed me and then whispered, 

“I say yes Brendon, I say yes on this plane at 2 am, I say yes. But first we have to get out of Philly and into LA.” He lifted up the armrest and leaned into my chest, my arm around him. He was soon asleep and I got out to write something for him. 

The fact that you have felt this way too gives me hope enough to hang on to life one more day, and then another day after that. I want to get lost with you, I want to fly around the country and hide in corners of airport walls, and run my fingers through your hair and lock my lips into yours for hours until we realize we missed our flight. And then we will laugh and reschedule at the ticket counter and wait outside a starbucks on the floor drinking coffee and staying awake hours at a time. Maybe after this we will go on a road trip, and we will get lost in the back of my little sedan that I don’t own but could buy and we could tour after that and record an album about our adventures. I love you. I love you George Ryan Ross III. 

When we landed in LA it was about 6:00 am there. I woke up Ryan who had the cutest look of sleep in his eyes. 

“Wake up, I have something for you, and we need to get off the plane.” He lifted himself from my body and started to stand up to get his guitar from the overhead bin. I grabbed my old backpack from the under the seat and my guitar from the overhead bin across the aisle. We grabbed our gate checked suitcases with clothes in it and headed off the jetway.   
“What do we do now?” He grabbed my hand.

“We sleep at one of these gates and then buy tickets to a flight somewhere, and we go and run off until we run out of money, I guess.” I said to him. 

“Sounds good to me, but how do we shower?” He asked, his face like a kid on christmas.

“We could stay in the hotels attached to the airport every once and a while, We have to just use the clothes we have. I don’t know, I’ve never tried to live from airport to airport before.” I said to him, wondering how this would all work out. 

“Now that we’re found, let’s get lost.” He said to me and kissed me on the cheek. Suddenly I realized that was one of the most profound things I’ve ever heard. I should use it in a song.


	3. Wonderwall

Because maybe  
You're gonna be the one that saves me  
And after all  
You're my wonderwall-Oasis//Wonderwall

 

We had slept at a gate in the domestic section of LAX, and now were going to the American Airlines ticket counter. 

“How may I help you two gentlemen?” The ticket agent was a pretty blonde girl in her 20’s and was very polite. 

“We need two tickets to anywhere within the United States leaving this afternoon, the cheapest you have that is outside of California.” I said to her and saw a shocked look on her face.

“Anywhere….um...we have a 4:35 pm to Milwaukee changing planes in Denver for 758 dollars for both of you, that’s the cheapest we have. Are you sure you don’t have a specific destination and are not intoxicated?” She seemed freaked out.

“No we are just kind of traveling and no we are not intoxicated.” Ryan interjected. I gave the lady my debit card and she gave us boarding passes. We decided to get something to eat. We went to some place called Ruby’s Diner. It was on the Departure level where we were. 

I ordered a western omelette and Ryan ordered chocolate chip pancakes. 

“These are good pancakes,” Ryan said his mouth full of food.

“Chew with your mouth closed man, and my omelette is really good too.” Somehow we had started playing footsy under the table and had attracted the attention of an elderly couple at the table next to us. 

“It’s people like you who are ruining this country and the family.” The lady tapped Ryan on the shoulder and said.

“What are we doing, I’m eating breakfast and playing footsy with my boyfriend. Get off your high fucking horse.” First off I was incredibly flattered to be called his boyfriend and second off I had never seen him stand up for himself like, yet alone stand up for me.

“Thanks Ryan, just ignore them- they probably remember when lincoln was president. We can play footsy all we want, in fact- kiss me once we get up, when the waitress brings us our change.” I said to him and glared at the lady. 

I got up and kissed him, almost overdramatically to get a reaction out of the old lady. She just mumbled something quite hateful and we picked up our stuff and left. Our flight for Denver didn’t leave for 6 hours and we had nothing to do, I have a feeling it will be a lot of nothing to do. But we had eachother. 

We walked around the airport until our arms were tired of carrying the guitars, suitcases and backpacks and sat down at the Denver gate. 

“Can I sing to you, Ryan? Just quietly.” I said to him. 

“Of course, Brendon, of course.” He replied back. 

I started singing Wonderwall by Oasis, and he grabbed my hand and before long everyone at the gate was staring and listening. He joined in on the chorus, and when the song was over everyone clapped, and we got a few nice comments.


	4. Denver

The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You're barely waking  
And I'm tangled up in you  
Yeah- Collide//Howie Day

We had boarded the plane to Milwaukee and had sat down in our seats. The first flight was rather noneventful. Ryan had taken the window seat. I sat in the aisle. We were drinking ginger ale, and sitting in silence mostly, as the plane flew through the air.

“Ryan can I lean into your chest, I’m cold. In fact put your coat on over me.” I leaned into his chest, and he had taken his black hoodie, and placed it over both of us. It was about seven o’clock, and the sun was setting out the dirty plane window. My head rested on his chest and I soon drifted off to sleep. 

We got to Milwaukee at eleven o’clock at night, and were utterly exhausted. 

“Brendon, wake up the plane is landing. My arm is also asleep from you sitting on my chest. This is turning out to be more tiring than I thought.” Ryan needed sleep, I could tell. And this was more tiring than it sounded in LAX this morning.

“Let’s lay down, Ry. You can use my head as a pillow, there’s no where to buy pillows, this a small airport and everything is closed.” I said and set down the suitcases, making a pillow out of a pair sweatpants I had in my carry on.   
He leaned next to me and made a pillow out of a shirt of his, and I rub his back and sing to him until falls asleep.


	5. Pittsburgh

Even now I can see you smile  
I can hear you hum  
I can hear you sing  
And I always can find you again-Dashboard Confessional//Even Now

We woke up on the floor, tangled in each other as the sun shone out the window over the plane. There wasn’t anyone around, and suddenly I wanted to press my lips strongly into his. 

“Ryan, come with me to the bathroom.” I winked at him and we picked up our stuff.The guitars were getting old to carry around, and we were starting to smell. We had to get to an airport with an attached hotel, Pittsburgh had one I think. I wanted one that was connected so we never left the airport.

“Ok, I’m coming.” He said and picked up his stuff. We both entered the same stall, and there was absolutely no room for us to stand because of the stuff, even with that. I grabbed him by the shoulders and started kissing him, slamming his body against the door of the stall, and took off his shirt. His chest was bony but flat, and I kissed it up and down, running my hands around his hipbones.

“Brendon, I can’t. This too much to not be able to go all the way, which is what I want to do so bad.” Ryan was obviously flustered, and he put his shirt on and we left the stall. 

“The Pittsburgh airport has a hotel attached, let’s go there. Then we can finish what we started.” I said to him, hoping he would agree.

“That sounds good Brendon, but this small airport is shit. I can’t even find a place to buy a freaking pillow.” Ryan was annoyed about the pillow, but what he was really annoyed about, I could tell, was how hard this was turning out to be. 

“Let’s go get something to eat and book a flight to Pittsburgh.” I said to him grabbing his hand.

RYAN’S POV______________________________________________________________

Brendon fell asleep on the flight. I decided to write, in my journal. 

December 17th, 2006

We were in Milwaukee today, the airport was small, and I couldn’t find a place to buy a pillow. Brendon and I had a “Make out session,” in the bathroom that left me breathless. Something about him is motivating me to carry all this garbage around these airports, and get lost with him. It’s really all I want- to be found and to get lost. I was found. Now I was getting lost, and I’m enjoying (most) every minute of it. His eyes are closed and his eyelashes rest on his cheek almost, and his brown-black hair is piecey into his face. He looked so at peace with life his head against the window, and one earbud in, listening to something- I don’t know what. 

His light breathing struck me as odd, as he stirred occasionally and mumbled something to me that I couldn’t understand. Something that my eyes were the size of the moon. I realized I had a polaroid camera in my leather bag, and snapped a picture of him on the plane. I wanted to hold onto it forever. Taking a sharpie, I dated the picture.- Pittsburgh- 12/17/06


	6. Is this happiness

Are we growing up or just going down?  
It's just a matter of time until we're all found out  
Take our tears and put them on ice  
Cause I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light-Fall Out Boy// Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year 

We were exhausted, utterly exhausted. Ryan didn’t sleep on the plane to Pittsburgh, and I was starting to get annoyed with the whole process. What once seemed romantic and exciting was tiring and hurting my arms. You know, because of the guitars and the suitcases and the fact that we hadn’t slept somewhere that wasn’t either an upright airplane seat or the floor in three days. 

It was about noon which meant we could check into our hotel, but we needed our next ticket to somewhere, I think we were going to fly to Seattle through Detroit. I had booked it earlier, and I had to practically drag Ryan to the hotel room he was so tired. He had his arm around my shoulder like someone is injured might. 

“Ryan, are you like half asleep?” I asked him, his head falling on my shoulder. 

“Brendon, I’m tired ok. This isn’t as fun as I thought it would, my back and shoulders hurt, my neck is on fire, and I don’t think I’ve gotten more than 30 minutes of sleep at a time in 4 days. I’m not exactly chipper, for fucks sake.” He was practically yelling at me. 

“Ryan call down, we’re checking into the hotel, and then you can use me however you want.” I laughed as we walked off the walkway and into the hotel. We checked into the hotel.

“Oh my god its so good to be on a bed!” Ryan flopped on the bed. 

“And I’m gonna make it even better.” I climbed into the king size bed next to him, and pulled off his shirt. I traced circles on his chest, and started kissing his collarbones and up his neck. 

“Brendon, you’re making me crazy.” He went and took off his pants and I went down there and before long we were totally naked under the blankets. 

“I have wanted to do that for so long Ryan, I don’t think you understand.”

“Brendon, I love you.” 

RYAN’S POV____________________________________________________

Brendon is asleep next to me, we spent the day ordering room service and watching Law and Order and making out quite passionately. It actually has been the perfect day, it has been everything I ever wanted. He is so beautiful, and so enamored with this whole adventure. I just want to wrap myself around him and hold him, but then I realize I think he wants to hold me in the same way. I am definitely lost, but am I really found? Or am I more lost than when I started. All I know is that I love him, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. That’s really all I can say for sure. Is that I’m both lost and found and in love. But isn’t that what love is?


	7. Polaroid

Gonna hold ya, gonna kiss ya in my arms  
Gonna take ya away from home-Angus and Julia Stone// Big Jet Plane

It was time to check out of the hotel. I had a great time between the making out and sex, and the cuddling and most of all sleeping somewhere that was not a dirty floor. This was really starting to get old. Ryan was behind me as we went through security and checked into the gate for Seattle.

“I want to sing, Ryan. I also think after Seattle we should head back to New York, we need to meet up with everyone, my phone has been blowing up from Jon and Spencer. I think they know, but I haven’t said much.” I spoke to him, leaning onto his shoulder. 

“I think so too. I just want you to sing to me.” I lifted my head off his shoulder and quietly sang Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah. I don’t know if anyone could hear me, but at this point I really didn’t care. My voice was deep and soft, but in a higher register than I usually sang. 

“This was really fun. This whole adventure, but what do we do when we get back? How do we feel this way in life?” He said, grasping my hand as we sat on the cold carpeted floor of the Pittsburgh airport. 

Ryan pulled out a polaroid camera and turned it around to face us. 

“Smile!” He told me, and I looked over and leaned into his head as we took the pictures until he ran out of film. He proceeded to date and title all the pictures with a sharpie.


	8. Picture

But in the stillness of the moment it takes for a Polaroid picture  
To capture our faces forever  
The world has turned a touch on it's axis  
And the only thing certain  
Is everything changes-Frank Turner//Polaroid Picture

We had landed in Seattle. Seattle’s airport was nice, and we were tired. We had a good run. I put a text to Spencer that we would be back today. But first we wanted to capture what had happened before we went back to our lives. 

We were sitting in a starbucks, smelly and tired and angsty (just a little bit.) We were each writing each other a letter with a polaroid picture of the other that we took and picked. My polaroid was ryan sitting on a window ledge with a plane flying directly over him. His hair is floppy and dirty and he’s wearing a grey t-shirt with a red flannel shirt. I start to write in scratchy handwriting.

Ryan, the last week-ish has been one of the best of my life, lying there and watching the snow fall on the wings of the plane we are supposed to of been on for 2 hours, jumping on the hotel bed like we’re eight years old. Lugging your guitar and mine because your arm hurt from me rolling over on it on the floor of the god forsaken Milwaukee airport. I never want the way we feel about each other to change. I feel for you something I have never felt for anyone, ever. You are the one who I need to feel complete. I was lost, then found, then getting lost, and now I’m finally found. I love you, Brendon.

I put the polaroid and the letter in the envelope from the card I bought just for the envelope. 

RYAN’S POV____________________________________________________________

I stuck a polaroid of Brendon asleep on my shoulder in the envelope. It was first polaroid I took, sitting on the plane. One of the first planes. I picked up a red pen to write the letter on an old receipt. I thought that make it special.

Dear Brendon, I’m writing this on an old starbucks receipt. I think it makes it a momento. I have cherished every waking, and non waking moment of the past how ever many days. Everything from your mumbling on the plane to the look in your eyes when you first kissed me. I want the good in you the bad in you, and everything inbetween. I just want you. You are more than likely, no you are the love of my life. Sugarcane in the easy morning, weatherveins my one and lonely. That’s going in a song. I want you to want me in the way I want you, wholly completely and unconditionally. I love you, and its your eyes, not mine that are the size of the moon.


	9. JFK and Showers

found a ghost in the city lights (city lights)  
Where all my wrongs have turned to rights (ahh)  
Heart broken into pieces (pieces)  
It ain't a way we should live

From the ground up we will rise (we will rise)  
I tipped my hat to the highest high  
Every day is a compromise -Young Rising Sons// High

We had picked up suitcases (the checked ones,) finally in New York. Spencer and Jon picked us up at the airport. The ride home was awkward, and I had Ryan’s hand in my lap, clutching our fingers in between each other's. We had talked about getting an apartment together, Ryan was going to clean his out today, and come stay with me.

I could tell we made Spencer and Jon feel awkward. I had them drop us off at Ryan’s apartment to help him clean up. 

“I want to fuck you in the shower.” That was the first thing he said when we got in.

“I’m up for that.” Ryan went and turned on the water to the shower. It was a small shower stall, not even a tub- I didn’t know how it would work. 

I undressed and stood there, cold, watching Ryan undress himself. 

“God you are hot, with your hipbones, that go in, and your flat chest, and that look in your eyes.” Ryan pushed me against the wall and started preparing me before we stepped into the shower. 

It was cramped, but damn it was hot. Him inside of me in that shower, it was the hottest thing I ever experienced. Now we are are drying off and I put on clean clothes. It also felt good to get a shower.

“You’re such a little fuckboy Brendon, but you’re both my fuck toy and fuckboy.” Ryan was packing things up into boxes and listing the apartment on craigslist. 

“Yes I am Ryan, and I’m always happy to be of service to you.” I laughed at him. Soon we had everything packed and we had called a cab to take us to my apartment.

“This is just the beginning, Ry.” I said to him in the back of the cab and kissed his cheek.


	10. Nine

“Wish we could turn back time to the good old days.”- Twenty One Pilots// Stressed Out

 

Ryan had gotten out of the lease of his apartment, and was staying with me. We had gotten used to the pattern of getting up, doing nothing, maybe having sex and going to bed. There really wasn’t the adventure or spark that was there before. Something was missing.

“Ryan, I miss the old us.” I said to him, pouring a whisky and sitting on the couch.

“What old us, we’ve been dating for six weeks.” He said, not understanding what I meant.

“The us in the airport, the us that wrote those letters, the us who made out in an airport despite people onlooking, the you that stood up for us, for me, to that old lady. That us, that spark that was there.” I gulped down the rest of the whisky. 

“You can’t run away from life Brendon. Life isn’t always running around without a care in the world, you have to live your life and realize that is is what the good bad and the inbetween is. You can’t live life on some adventure all the time and it’s time we both learned that. We can’t be stupid and 18 forever at some point we have to grow up and be adults.” Ryan was smoking a cigarette, which surprisingly, you can do in this shitty apartment. 

“I know that, Ryan, I know that. I just wish the gold could stay, and the adventure would last. I guess it’s up to us to have our own adventure out of doing normal shit. Besides maybe we could start writing the next album.” I said to him, setting my empty glass down.   
“That would be nice. I have one song ready, I’ll play it for you, it’s called Nine in the Afternoon.” He picked up the guitar and started to play and sing. Cause it’s nine in the afternoon, your eyes are the size of the moon was the main part of the chorus. That’s when I realized that’s what I told him half asleep on the plane. 

I’m surprised he even could understand what I said, then I remembered it was in the note I think. And the song was beautiful.


	11. Scrubs

Questions, questions, suddenly suggestions  
Where was anyone at the start of this thing?  
Hold the cold up over your shoulder  
All I needs a place to grieve-Nate Ruess//AhHa

“Ryan, I can’t stand when you get like this! You’re all moody, you don’t talk to me, you literally sit and write all day! Not that writing is bad it’s just, I need you to talk to me, We are in a relationship, REMEMBER? OR DID YOU FUCKING FORGET THAT TOO!” I screamed at him. He’d barely spoken a word in a week. 

“BRENDON, I AM JUST TRYING TO WORK. OF COURSE I KNOW WE ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP!!! AND I’LL TRY BETTER TO TALK. I JUST GET IN THESE MOODS WHERE I DON’T WANT ANYTHING TO DO ANYONE, IT’S NOT YOU IT’S ME.” He started to get watery eyed at the end.

“I’m sorry Ryan, I didn’t mean to make you upset. It’s just I feel left out. I’m not saying we have to have adventures but we should at least hang out and watch TV or play music. I’m sorry.” I felt really bad for yelling at him.

“It’s ok, Bren, and you’re right. We do need to spend more time together. Do you want to watch a scrubs marathon netflix?” Ryan got up and shut his MacBook, and turned on the TV with Netflix.

We sat there in silence, and I wondered how this was going to work. We were both kind of brooding, and gloomy and I didn’t know why. Maybe always wondering what the other thought was the most exciting part. Maybe we weren’t right for eachother, as much as it pained me to think that. 

“You know I meant everything in that letter, right?” He leaned over and started running his hands through my hair, and turned towards me on the couch. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, clutching his arms behind my shoulders. 

“I know you mean it, now let me lean in and show you how much I mean it.” I leaned him into the couch and showed him that I was over everything I was once on.


	12. Plates and Scrapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ABUSE TW

“BRENDON I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF YOU LEAVING DISHES IN THE SINK!!!” Everything had gone to hell, Ryan was either not sleeping for three days in an almost manic state, and sometimes got viciously angry, or he was asleep and depressed. Something was wrong.

I watched as Ryan smashed the blue plate against the counter top and picked up a piece and threw it directly at my arm, the jagged edge sliced directly into the skin and blood started pouring out of my arm.

“RYAN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, YOU JUST FUCKING CUT ME WITH A PLATE!” I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my arm, before shoving Ryan into the pantry on the other side of the kitchen, when he stood up and shoved me hard onto the tile floor my bloody arm hitting first, opening the wound even farther. 

“YOU REALLY THOUGHT YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH PUSHING ME?” I had never EVER seen him like this.

“I WAS DEFENDING MYSELF FOR FUCKS SAKE AND NOW I NEED STITCHES, THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG YOU. YOU’RE OUTTA YOUR MIND, I’M CALLING THE COPS.” I shouted back it him, tears welling up in my eyes. 

I grabbed my phone and dialed 911. 

“Yes, my boyfriend is not acting in his right mind he’s being violent, he has been up for three days, I think something is wrong, he threw a plate at me and I don’t want charges pressed I just want him to get help.” I said to the operator as Ryan sat on top of countertop.

“Yes I am hurt, I think my arm needs stitches.” I said to the operator and before I knew it the cops were here and Ryan was seeming to be calmed down. 

They had a paramedic stitch up my arm and they were taking Ryan to a hospital, I followed suit in the police car. They kept asking if I wanted to press charges and my answer was always no. Suddenly everything was falling apart around me when I fan took a picture of Ryan being held in handcuffs being led into a mental hospital with me with a bandaged arm behind him.


	13. Breaking

“ I know.  
That you all have guns,  
And you never put the safety on,  
And you all have plans,  
To take it, don't take it,  
Don't take it, take it, take it.”-Twenty One Pilots//Guns For Hands

I got called into a small little room where Ryan was sitting looking exhausted in a chair, the cops had left and Ryan had never looked so defeated, and so upset. He looked like death and he looked like he would welcome it. 

“Brendon, do you feel safe with Ryan at home if he receives medication tonight and outpatient therapy and medication, or would you rather have him admitted? He said to defer all decisions to you.” The nice young doctor said to me. 

“I want what is best for him, but I would feel safe with him at home. He was never AT ALL violent before this.” I said to the doctor.

“We think he needs to be admitted, if you want my honest opinion.” The doctor said, while Ryan cried in the corner on a chair. 

“Then admit him, but try to get him to sign the papers himself.” I had tears welling up in my eyes and watched as a defeated, cold, small and sick looking Ryan signed the papers. They took him back for a physical and then they led us both into the elevator to 13th floor where he was going to be kept, or stay, or whatever the word was for this.

“Ryan, I love you. No matter what, you are the Ryan from the airport in my mind, forever and always. I also want you to know that you are beautiful and perfect no matter they say.” I embraced him into a hug and gave him a kiss, before they led him onto the unit.

The nurse explained visiting hours and what I needed to bring him. I left feeling sick to my stomach, the acid started to rise in my throat and the acid started to come back up and the next thing I know I was throwing up in a toilet on the 4th floor. 

I felt sick and disgusting leaving him there, but something was wrong. He could call me from the hospital phone, I guess. But I loved him no matter what, and something was seriously wrong with him.


	14. Headcase

“My trial was filed as a crazy  
Suicidal head case  
But you specialize in dying  
You hear me screaming  
Father  
And I'm lying here just crying  
So wash me with your water”-twenty one pilots//addict with a pen

Ryan was sitting on a little bed, one of two, in a small room with a window overlooking parts of New York City, what parts, I didn’t know. I had brought him books, notebooks (without spirals, those weren’t allowed,) t shirts, and sweatpants without strings (also not allowed). 

“Hey Bren, I’m so sorry.” Ryan was wearing blue hospital pants and a blue hospital gown. He looked so small and scrawny and that’s when I realized he had lost weight. His arms are bony, and his face is sunken. He looked so sad, and terrible. He didn’t look like the Ryan I loved. 

“It’s ok, Ry, It’s ok.” I sat on the bed and he leaned into my chest.   
“I hate this place, everyone is crazy and we have to do group therapy and my roommate is 45 years old or some shit and is like overly friendly and snores, the food is terrible, and I feel so stupid for throwing the plate at you. I just want to die.” Ryan was crying into my t-shirt, and I wrapped my arms around him, and then looked him square in the eye.

“Ryan, I love you, this is bad in those letters. My brother was bipolar, I think you are too. It all makes sense, I’m sure they will figure it out. But I will always love you, no matter what. And I brought your clothes and books and stuff. They have to go through it.” I gave him a kiss quickly before the staff walked in with his stuff. 

“We can’t let you have the pens but we have bendy pens you can use to write with. I brought you a few with your stuff. Visiting is over in half an hour and then the doctor wants to see you.” The staff was a young pretty girl, about 22. 

Ryan started to fold his clothes and set up his books on wooden shelves without hooks. 

“Do you care if I change?” He asked.

“Dude we’ve had sex I don’t care, I can’t get any while you’re in here anyway.” I laughed which made him laugh. 

“I really love you, you know that?” He turned around and was wearing sweatpants an old tour tshirt. 

“Give me a kiss and then visiting is over.” I gave him a kiss, and got up and said that i’d be back tomorrow.

The nurse led me out to get my stuff from the lockers outside. I walked back to pick up the shattered plate from the empty apartment.


	15. Darling, I wrote you

“It’s a long road up to recovery from here, a long way back to light.” - Frank Turner//Recovery

I came back to visit Ryan the next day. He appeared to be in higher spirits, but I was lonely without him. Sleeping in that big empty bed made it hard to sleep at all. I had locked him up, but he needed it, I thought to myself.I did what would be right in the end. He needed help, as much as I wanted him here, I wanted him well more. The phone suddenly rang, and I went to answer it.

“Hey Brendon, what’s up?” It was Ryan, he sounded good.

“Just missing you, and re-reading your letter.” I said to him, which was the truth.  
“I’m bipolar.” Ryan blurted out. I wasn’t at all surprised.

“Do things make sense now, Ry?” I asked him.

“They do, and I’m leaving in six days on Wednesday. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow but I have to go someone needs the phone. Love you.” He said and I replied with an I love you, as the phone clicked.

Suddenly everything fell into place, he was acting just like my brother used to before his diagnosis. It all made sense. As bad as I felt for him, I knew it was good to just have a name for what was happening in your head. It did for my anxiety disorder. I decided to clean up the apartment which had been neglected. 

When I went to clean out the bathroom drawer I found something odd, it was white powder in a little bag. I knew I had to flush it, but I couldn’t believe Ryan was doing cocaine on top of everything else. I picked up the bag and set it in the toliet and flushed it. I would have to talk to him about this tomorrow. But first I was going to write a letter and put a polaroid in it.

I took the polaroid of him kissing me on the cheek with a plane taking off behind us in a window. I had held the camera out. I took a peice of paper from the notepad on the counter and started to write.

Ryan, I will love you no matter what, forever and always, I will be yours. But promise me you will stay and be mine. I found it in the bathroom. I forgive you, also I flushed it. I won’t tolerate that and you know it. But I want you to recover. I want you to be alright. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone and before you I could never realize that love like this was possible. I want you to remember me as you take your meds, as you DON’T do drugs, as you sit there and think about what your life is worth. Because it is worth more than anything in the universe to me, and that’s saying a lot. You are the best friend, and more that I’ve ever had. Please remember that. 

With My Undying Love, 

Brendon

The next day during visiting I gave him the letter.

“Brendon, it was once and I’m sorry. But this letter means more to me than you will ever know. Just five days, they got me started on meds and I’m feeling so much better. And of course I will remember you. That plane trip is the only reason I didn’t kill myself after we got to LAX. I was going to profess my love to you in a suicide note and this is so much better, so so so much better. Forever and always. I’ll write you a letter with one of these shitty little pens. Which I am stealing by the way cause they are kinda cool.” He kissed me on the cheek, and leaned me into his chest which was incredibly skinny. I needed to fatten him up.


	16. I found my way back home

“Everywhere I go,  
I'm higher than United, fly with me  
Everybody knows  
There's no sleep to Brooklyn, no sleep”-New Politics//Everywhere I go

It had been six days, and I had the stitches taken out my arm yesterday. It was going to scar. I was going to pick up Ryan and then we were going to go drink. Ryan had his stuff in his bags, waved goodbye to the other patients and left and as soon as we walked out the door, I handed him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, after I pulled one out of the box and lit one. We walked to the curb and hailed a taxi back to the apartment.

“I’ve missed you sooooo much, Bren.” He was running his hand up my leg, and then started tracing my collarbone. 

“You have no idea what’s going to happen when I get you home.” I whispered in his ear, trying not to creep out the cab driver, though I’m sure he’s seen and heard worse. He pulled up to the apartment and I paid him and helped ryan with the 2 duffle bags. 

“I need another smoke.” He pulled out the pack I gave him and sat down on the stoop of the apartment building, which had a few steps before you got in. I joined him. 

Neither of us really said anything until we walked up to the apartment and he set down his stuff. I got a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet, took a swig directly from the bottle and passed it straight to him. He followed in suit, and passed it back to me. This happened about three times and then we were hammered.

“I want you, get down on your knees bitch.” I got up, extremely drunk, to the point where you could barely understand my words. 

“That was the best sex I ever had, Ryan.” I said to him, taking the last swig from the bottle vodka. 

“Same, we should get married. I’m serious, we can go to Canada- one last airport trip. Put on a suit.” 

I went in and put on a red suit and grabbed a phone charger, and put some clothes in a bag. Ryan came out in a tuxedo, and we booked a flight online with my credit card.  
“Is this actually happening? I get out of the motherfucking mental hospital and get married in Canada on the same day. Life is fucking strange.” Ryan said as we rolled up to the airport in yet another cab. 

We stumbled into the airport with our Passports and our suitcases to check into our flight. I don’t remember what happened until I got to security. Suddenly my stomach started hurt when I was in the X-Ray machine and the next thing I know I projectile vomit on the TSA agent and Ryan and I are in a small little room and I’m handcuffed to a bench.

“Why exactly are you two, both of you who are very very intoxicated going to Canada in the first place?” another agent asked.

“To get married, and I didn’t mean to puke on you. I’m very sorry.” I said my wrist chaffing at the handcuff. 

“I mean you guys are idiots but you aren’t threats, we’ll let you through.” They gave us our stuff back and we walked to the gate. I passed out on the flight and the next day we went to the ceremony. We found someone to perform it, but we couldn’t get a license because we weren’t citizens. 

“Brendon Boyd Urie, do you take George Ryan Ross III to be your wedded husband?” I was standing on a rooftop in Toronto, and replied with a simple “Yes.” My face was beaming. 

“George Ryan Ross III, do you take Brendon Boyd Urie to be your wedded husband.” The pastor or whoever this was said.

“I do.” Ryan said.

“You may now kiss the groom.” It was the greatest kiss I had ever had. 

On the way back to the hotel, he started to sing. He called the song Northern Downpour. And it was beautiful. 

Suddenly I realized that this is what life was meant to be. We were so happy, and I didn’t want it to end. I never wanted it to end. 

Hey moon, please forget to fall down, hey moon don’t you go down.


End file.
